Three years ago a Royal Commission was appointed to investigate the best

methods of controlling venereal disease, as small-pox, typhus, and to a

large extent typhoid, have already been controlled. The Commission was

well composed, not merely of officials and doctors, but of experienced

men and women in various fields, and the final Report is signed by all

the members, any difference of opinion being confined to minor points

(which it is unnecessary to touch on here) and to two members only. The

recommendations are conceived in the most practical and broad-minded

spirit. They are neither faddy nor goody-goody. Some indeed may wish that

they had gone further. The Commission leave over for later consideration

the question of notifying venereal disease as other infectious diseases

are notified, and there is no recommendation for the provision of

preventive methods against infection for use before intercourse, such as

are officially favoured in Germany. But at both these points the

Commissioners have been wise, for they are points to which sections of

public opinion are still strongly hostile.[4] As they stand, the

recommendations should carry conviction to all serious and reasonable

persons. Already, indeed, the Government, without opposition, has

expressed its willingness to undertake the financial burden which the

Commission would impose on it.

The main Recommendations made by the Commission, if we put aside the

suggestions for obtaining a more exact statistical knowledge, may be

placed under the heads of Treatment and Prevention. As regards the

first, it is insisted that measures should be taken to render the best

modern treatment, which should be free to all, readily available for

the whole community, in such a way that those affected will have no

hesitation in taking advantage of the facilities thus offered. The

means of treatment should be organised by County Councils and Boroughs,

under the Local Government Board, which should have power to make

independent arrangements when the local authorities fail in their

duties. Institutional treatment should be provided at all general

hospitals, special arrangements made for the treatment of out-patients

in the evenings, and no objection offered to patients seeking treatment

outside their own neighbourhoods. The expenditure should be assisted by

grants from Imperial Funds to the extent of 75 per cent. It may be

added that, however heavy such expenditure may be, an economy can

scarcely fail to be effected. The financial cost of venereal disease

to-day is so vast as to be beyond calculation. It enters into every

field of life. It is enough merely to consider the significant little

fact that the cost of educating a deaf child is ten times as great as

that of educating an ordinary child.

Under the head of Prevention we may place such a suggestion as that the

existence of infective venereal disease should constitute legal

incapacity for marriage, even when unknown, and be a sufficient cause

for annulling the marriage at the discretion of the court. But by far

the chief importance under this head is assigned by the Commission to

education and instruction. We see here the vindication of those who for

years have been teaching that the first essential in dealing with

venereal disease is popular enlightenment. There must be more careful

instruction--"through all types and grades of education"--on the sexual

relations in regard to conduct, while further instruction should be

provided in evening continuation schools, as well as factories and

works, with the aid of properly constituted voluntary associations.

These are sound and practical recommendations which, as the Government

has realised, can be put in action at once. A few years ago any attempt

to control venereal disease was considered by many to be almost impious.

Such disease was held to be the just visitation of God upon sin and to

interfere would be wicked. We know better now. A large proportion of

those who are most severely struck by venereal disease are new-born

children and trustful wives, while a simple kiss or the use of towels and

cups in common has constantly served to spread venereal disease in a

family. Even when we turn to the commonest method of infection, we have

still to remember that we are dealing largely with inexperienced youths,

with loving and trustful girls, who have yielded to the deepest and most

volcanic impulse of their natures, and have not yet learnt that that

impulse is a thing to be held sacred for their own sakes and the sake of

the race. In so far as there is sin, it is sin which must be shared by

those who have failed to train and enlighten the young. A Pharisaic

attitude is not only highly mischievous in its results, but is here

altogether out of place. Much harm has been done in the past by the

action of Benefit Societies in withholding recognition and treatment from

venereal disease.

It is evident that this thought was at the back of the minds of those

who framed these wise recommendations. We cannot expect to do away all

at once with the feeling that venereal disease is "shameful." It may

not even be desirable. But we can at least make clear that, in so far

as there is any shame, it must be a question between the individual and

his own conscience. From the point of view of science, syphilis and

gonorrhoea are just diseases, like cancer and consumption, the only

diseases with which they can be compared in the magnitude and extent of

their results, and therefore it is best to speak of them by their

scientific names, instead of trying to invent vague and awkward

circumlocutions. From the point of view of society, any attitude of

shame is unfortunate, because it is absolutely essential that these

diseases should be met in the open and grappled with methodically and

thoroughly. Otherwise, as the Commission recognises, the sufferer is

apt to become the prey of ignorant quacks whose inefficient treatment

is largely responsible for the development of the latest and worst

afflictions these diseases produce when not effectually nipped in the

bud. That they can be thus cut short--far more easily than consumption,

to say nothing of cancer--is the fact which makes it possible to hope

for a conquest over venereal disease. It is a conquest that would make

the whole world more beautiful and deliver love from its ugliest

shadow. But the victory cannot be won by science alone, not even in

alliance with officialdom. It can only be won through the enlightened

co-operation of the whole nation.

[1] The increase of venereal disease during the Great War has been

noted alike in Germany, France, and England. Thus, as regards France,

Gaucher has stated at the Paris Academy of Medicine (_Journal de

Medicine_, May 10th, 1916) that since mobilisation syphilis had

increased by nearly one half, alike among soldiers and civilians; it

had much increased in quite young people and in elderly men. In

Germany, Neisser, a leading authority, states (_Deutsche Medizinische

Wochenschrift_, 14th Jan., 1915) that the prevalence of venereal

disease is much greater than in the war of 1870, and that "every day

many thousands, not to say tens of thousands, of otherwise able-bodied

men are withdrawn from the service on this account."

[2] The chief is Iwan Bloch who, in his elaborate work, _Der Ursprung

der Syphilis_ (2 vols., 1901, 1911), has fully investigated the evidence.

[3] N. Bishop Harman, "The Influence of Syphilis on the Chances of

Progeny," _British Medical Journal_, Feb. 5th, 1916.

[4] It is true that in my book, _Sex in Relation to Society_ (Ch. VIII.)

I have stated my belief that notification, as in the case of other

serious infectious diseases, is the first step in the conquest of

venereal disease. I still think it ought to be so. But a yet more

preliminary step is popular enlightenment as to the need for such

notification. The recommendations seem to me to go as far as it is

possible to go at the moment in English-speaking countries without

producing friction and opposition. In so far as they are carried out

the recommendations will ensure the necessary popular enlightenment.

XII

THE NATIONALISATION OF HEALTH

It was inevitable that we should some day have to face the problem of

medical reorganisation on a social basis. Along many lines social

progress has led to the initiation of movements for the improvement

of public health. But they are still incomplete and imperfectly

co-ordinated. We have never realised that the great questions of health

cannot safely be left to municipal tinkering and the patronage of

Bumbledom. The result is chaos and a terrible waste, not only of what

we call "hard cash," but also of sensitive flesh and blood. Health,

there cannot be the slightest doubt, is a vastly more fundamental and

important matter than education, to say nothing of such minor matters

as the post office or the telephone system. Yet we have nationalised

these before even giving a thought to the Nationalisation of Health.

At the present day medicine is mainly in the hands, as it was two

thousand years ago, of the "private practitioner." His mental status

has, indeed, changed. To-day he is submitted to a long and arduous

training in magnificently equipped institutions; all the laboriously

acquired processes and results of modern medicine and hygiene are

brought within the student's reach. And when he leaves the hospital,

often with the largest and noblest conception of the physician's place

in life, what do we do with him? He becomes a "private practitioner,"

which means, as Duclaux, the late distinguished Director of the Pasteur

Institute, put it, that we place him on the level of a retail grocer

who must patiently stand behind his counter (without the privilege of

advertising himself) until the public are pleased to come and buy

advice or drugs which are usually applied for too late to be of much

use, and may be thrown away at the buyer's good pleasure, without the

possibility of any protest by the seller. It is little wonder that in

many cases the doctor's work and aims suffer under such conditions; his

nature is subdued to what it works in; he clings convulsively to his

counter and its retail methods.

The fact is--and it is a fact that is slowly becoming apparent to

all--that the private practice of medicine is out of date. It fails to

answer the needs of our time. There are various reasons why this should

be the case, but two are fundamental. In the first place, medicine has

outgrown the capacity of any individual doctor; the only adequate

private practitioner must have a sound general knowledge of medicine

with an expert knowledge of a dozen specialties; that is to say, he must

give place to a staff of doctors acting co-ordinately, for the present

system, or lack of system, by which a patient wanders at random from

private practitioner to specialist, from specialist to specialist

_ad infinitum_, is altogether mischievous. Moreover, not only is it

impossible for the private practitioner to possess the knowledge

required to treat his patients adequately: he cannot possess the

scientific mechanical equipment nowadays required alike for diagnosis

and treatment, and every day becoming more elaborate, more expensive,

more difficult to manipulate. It is installed in our great hospitals

for the benefit of the poorest patient; it could, perhaps, be set up

in a millionaire's palace, but it is hopelessly beyond the private

practitioner, though without it his work must remain unsatisfactory and

inadequate.[1] In the second place, the whole direction of modern

medicine is being changed and to an end away from private practice; our

thoughts are not now mainly bent on the cure of disease but on its

prevention. Medicine is becoming more and more transformed into hygiene,

and in this transformation, though the tasks presented are larger and

more systematic, they are also easier and more economical. These two

fundamental tendencies of modern medicine--greater complexity of its

methods and the predominantly preventive character of its aims--alone

suffice to render the position of the private practitioner untenable. He

cannot cope with the complexity of modern medicine; he has no authority

to enforce its hygiene.

The medical system of the future must be a national system co-ordinating

all the conditions of health. At the centre we should expect to find a

Minister of Health, and every doctor of the State would give his whole

time to his work and be paid by salary which in the case of the higher

posts would be equal to that now fixed for the higher legal offices, for

the chief doctor in the State ought to be at least as important an

official as the Lord Chancellor. Hospitals and infirmaries would be alike

nationalised, and, in place of the present antagonism between hospitals

and the bulk of the medical profession, every doctor would be in touch

with a hospital, thus having behind him a fully equipped and staffed

institution for all purposes of diagnosis, consultation, treatment, and

research, also serving for a centre of notification, registration,

preventive and hygienic measures. In every district the citizen would

have a certain amount of choice as regards the medical man to whom he

may go for advice, but no one would be allowed to escape the medical

supervision and registration of his district, for it is essential that

the central Health Authority of every district should know the health

conditions of all the inhabitants of the district. Only by some such

organised and co-ordinated system as this can the primary conditions of

Health, and preventive measures against disease, be genuinely socialised.

These views were put forward by the present writer twenty years ago in

a little book on _The Nationalisation of Health_, which, though it met

with wide approval, was probably regarded by most people as Utopian.

Since then the times have moved, a new generation has sprung up, and

ideas which, twenty years ago, were brooded over by isolated thinkers

are now seen to be in the direct line of progress; they have become the

property of parties and matters of active propaganda. Even before the

introduction of State Insurance Professor Benjamin Moore, in his able

book, _The Dawn of the Health Age_, anticipating the actual march of

events, formulated a State Insurance Scheme which would lead on, as he

pointed out, to a genuinely National Medical Service, and later, Dr.

Macilwaine, in a little book entitled _Medical Revolution_, again

advocated the same changes: the establishment of a Ministry of Health,

a medical service on a preventive basis, and the reform of the

hospitals which must constitute the nucleus of such a service. It may

be said that for medical men no longer engaged in private practice it

is easy to view the disappearance of private practice with serenity;

but it must be added that it is precisely that disinterested serenity

which makes possible also a clear insight into the problems and a wider

view of the new horizons of medicine. Thus it is that to-day the

dreamers of yesterday are justified.

The great scheme of State Insurance was certainly an important step

towards the socialisation of medicine. It came short, indeed, of the

complete Nationalisation of Health as an affair of State. But that

could not possibly be introduced at one move. Apart even from the

difficulty of complete reorganisation, the two great vested interests

of private medical practice on the one hand and Friendly Societies on

the other would stand in the way. A complicated transitional period is

necessary, during which those two interests are conciliated and

gradually absorbed. It is this transitional period which State

Insurance has inaugurated. To compare small things to great--as we may,

for the same laws run all through Nature and Society--this scheme

corresponds to the ancient Ptolomaean system of astronomy, with its

painfully elaborate epicycles, which preceded and led on to the sublime

simplicity of the Copernican system. We need not anticipate that the

transitional stage of national insurance will endure as long as the

ancient astronomy. Professor Moore estimated that it would lead to a

completely national medical service in twenty-five years, and since the

introduction of that method he has, too optimistically, reduced the

period to ten years. We cannot reach simplicity at a bound; we must

first attempt to systematise the recognised and established activities

and adjust them harmoniously.

The organised refusal of the medical profession at the outset to carry

on, under the conditions offered, the part assigned to it in the great

National Insurance scheme opened out prospects not clearly realised by

the organisers. No doubt its immediate aspects were unfortunate. It not

only threatened to impede the working of a very complex machine, but it

dismayed many who were not prepared to see doctors apparently taking up

the position of the syndicalists, and arguing that a profession which

is essential to the national welfare need not be carried out on

national lines, but can be run exclusively by itself in its own

interests. Such an attitude, however, usefully served to make clear how

necessary it is becoming that the extension of medicine and hygiene in

the national life should be accompanied by a corresponding extension in

the national government. If we had had a Council of National Health, as

well as of National Defence, or a Board of Health as well as a Board of

Trade, a Minister of Health with a seat in the Cabinet, any scheme of

Insurance would have been framed from the outset in close consultation

with the profession which would have the duty of carrying it out. No

subsequent friction would have been possible.

Had the Insurance scheme been so framed, it is perhaps doubtful whether

it would have been so largely based on the old contract system. Club

medical practice has long been in discredit, alike from the point of

view of patient and doctor. It furnishes the least satisfactory form of

medical relief for the patient, less adequate than that he could obtain

either as a private patient or as a hospital patient. The doctor, on

his side, though he may find it a very welcome addition to his income,

regards Club practice as semi-charitable, and, moreover, a form of

charity in which he is often imposed on; he seldom views his club

patients with much satisfaction, and unless he is a self-sacrificing

enthusiast, it is not to them that his best attention, his best time,

his most expensive drugs, are devoted. To perpetuate and enlarge the

club system of practice and to glorify it by affixing to it a national

seal of approval, was, therefore, a somewhat risky experiment, not

wisely to be attempted without careful consultation with those most

concerned.

Another point might then also have become clear: the whole tendency of

medicine is towards a recognition of the predominance of Hygiene. The

modern aim is to prevent disease. The whole national system of medicine

is being slowly though steadily built up in recognition of the great

fact that the interests of Health come before the interests of Disease.

It has been an unfortunate flaw in the magnificent scheme of Insurance

that this vital fact was not allowed for, that the old-fashioned notion

that treatment rather than prevention is the object of medicine was

still perpetuated, and that nothing was done to co-ordinate the

Insurance scheme with the existing Health Services.

It seems probable that in a Service of State medical officers the

solution may ultimately be found. Such a solution would, indeed,

immensely increase the value of the Insurance scheme, and, in the end,

confer far greater benefits than at present on the millions of people who

would come under its operation. For there can be no doubt the Club system

is not only unscientific; it is also undemocratic. It perpetuates what

was originally a semi-charitable and second-rate method of treatment of

the poorer classes. A State medical officer, devoting his whole time and

attention to his State patients, has no occasion to make invidious

distinctions between public and private patients.

A further advantage of a State Medical Service is that it will facilitate

the inevitable task of nationalising the hospitals, whether charitable or

Poor-law. The Insurance Act, as it stands, opens no definite path in this

direction. But nowadays, so vast and complicated has medicine become,

even the most skilful doctor cannot adequately treat his patient unless

he has a great hospital at his back, with a vast army of specialists and

research-workers, and a manifold instrumental instalment.

A third, and even more fundamental, advantage of a State Medical Service

is that it would help to bring Treatment into touch with Prevention. The

private practitioner, as such, inside or outside the Insurance scheme,

cannot conveniently go behind his patient's illness. But the State doctor

would be entitled to ask: _Why_ has this man broken down? The State's

guardianship of the health of its citizens now begins at birth (is

tending to be carried back before birth) and covers the school life. If

a man falls ill, it is, nowadays, legitimate to inquire where the

responsibility lies. It is all very well to patch up the diseased man

with drugs or what not. But at best that is a makeshift method. The

Consumptive Sanatoriums have aroused enthusiasm, and they also are all

very well. But the Charity Organisation Society has shown that only about

50 per cent. of those who pass through such institutions become fit for

work. It is not more treatment of disease that we want, it is less need

for treatment. And a State Medical Service is the only method by which

Medicine can be brought into close touch with Hygiene.

The present attitude of the medical profession sometimes strikes people

as narrow, unpatriotic, and merely self-interested. But the Insurance

Act has brought a powerful ferment of intellectual activity into the

medical profession which in the end will work to finer issues. A

significant sign of the times is the establishment of the State Medical

Service Association, having for its aim the organisation of the medical

profession as a State Service, the nationalisation of hospitals, and

the unification of preventive and curative medicine. To many in the

medical profession such schemes still seem "Utopian"; they are blind to

a process which has been in ever increasing action for more than half a

century and which they are themselves taking part in every day.

[1] The result sometimes is that the ambitious doctor seeks to become

a specialist in at least one subject, and instals a single expensive

method of treatment to which he enthusiastically subjects all his

patients. This would be comic if it were not sometimes rather tragic.

XIII

EUGENICS AND GENIUS

The cry is often heard to-day from those who watch with disapproval the

efforts made to discourage the reckless procreation of the degenerate

and the unfit: You are stamping out the germs of genius! It is widely

held that genius is a kind of flower, unknown to the horticulturist,

which only springs from diseased roots; make the plant healthily sound

and your hope of blossoms is gone, you will see nothing but leaves. Or,

according to the happier metaphor of Lombroso, the work of genius is an

exquisite pearl, and pearls are the product of an obscure disease. To

the medical mind, especially, it has sometimes been, naturally and

properly no doubt, a source of satisfaction to imagine that the

loveliest creations of human intellect may perhaps be employed to shed

radiance on the shelves of the pathological museum. Thus we find eminent

physicians warning us against any effort to decrease the vigour of

pathological processes, and influential medical journals making solemn

statements in the same sense. "Already," I read in a recent able and

interesting editorial article in the _British Medical Journal_,

"eugenists in their kind enthusiasm are threatening to stamp out the

germs of possible genius."

Essays in War-Time: Further Studies in the Task of Social Hygiene · 第 8 / 15 段